“It’s an omen. All of it.”
All of it? Shannon wanted to ask what she missed but didn’t want to open a can of worms with so many people watching.
Mrs. Harkin marched across the room and stopped in front of her daughter. In a tight voice, she said, “Get yourself together, young lady. You’re making a scene.”
Corrie hiccupped.
“We’re going to run through the rehearsal in here. The wedding coordinator assures me the rain will let up by tomorrow.”
Shannon made eye contact with Corrie’s friend.
A coordinator that could control the weather would be a neat trick.
“It’s been raining all day.”
Mrs. Harkin lowered her voice. “You’re crying like a child. Do you want your husband to think you’re too immature to handle a little rain?”
Corrie blinked a few times, opened her mouth.
“Now, go wipe that face and paint on a smile.”
Shannon had a strong desire to tell Mrs. Harkin that Corrie had every right to be upset. Instead she took Corrie’s elbow and helped her to her feet. “C’mon. Let’s freshen you up.” She looked at Corrie’s friend. “Can you find some face powder, maybe some lip gloss?”
The brunette nodded and took the opportunity to leave Corrie’s side.
Shannon followed the hostess to the ladies’ room at the back of the restaurant, checked the two stalls to make sure they were alone, and then propped Corrie up on the counter.
Corrie sucked in a couple of deep breaths, her blank stare focused on the back of the room.
Shannon dipped a paper towel into cold water and dabbed the mascara away from under Corrie’s eyes.
“There’s no guarantee it’s going to rain tomorrow. The forecast is saying partly cloudy with scattered showers . . . which is normal for this part of Mexico.”
“It’s pouring.”
“I know. I’m sure it’s not what you want. If they have to move the wedding inside, they move it inside. No big deal.”
Corrie looked away, her lips in a thin line. “My mother picked this place. Said it would accommodate everyone on the list. The coordinator told me this morning that we had twenty-five more guests than they can seat at the reception.”
“I’m sure they can make room. Things like that happen all the time.”
Corrie shook her head. “Nothing is going right, Shannon.”
She stopped working on the running makeup and captured Corrie’s gaze. “What does your fiancé say about the rain?”
Corrie’s nose flared, and for a second Shannon thought she’d have a bawling bride on her hands once again. Instead, her chin came up. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“He flew in a few hours ago. He was supposed to fly here with me yesterday and then told me at the last minute that he had a meeting he couldn’t avoid.”
Hair on the back of Shannon’s neck started to slowly dance.
“He’s always working. My mother says that’s a good thing, that we won’t get tired of each other.”
Shannon laid a hand on the countertop. “What do you think?”
Corrie swallowed. “I think it’s a crappy way to start a marriage. It feels like I’m just another merger for his company.”
Shannon was starting to understand Corrie’s point.
“And all this . . . the rain, the screwed up guest list . . . it’s an omen.”
She took a breath and waited. “Are you having second thoughts?”
Corrie nodded once. Her eyes started to well up again.
“Hey. It’s not too late to back out. If you really don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”
Corrie looked at her like the thought had never crossed her mind that she actually had a choice.
“Trust me. You’re better off walking away now than going around faking forever with a man who isn’t right.”
“I can’t do that. My mother would kill me. All the guests are flying in.”
Oh, the pressure. Shannon knew it well.
“Listen. I understand that there is a plan here, but you still have a choice. Take it from me, once you say I do, it’s going to take a lot more to say you don’t.”
“You think I’ll end up divorced.”
Shannon didn’t want to put that on her. “If you both love each other enough, you can work through anything.”
Corrie narrowed her eyes. “Did you love your husband enough?”
“I did. But it takes two, Corrie.”
She closed her eyes.
“I’m not saying your fiancé doesn’t love you.” Not that Shannon would know.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Corrie’s friend appeared with the makeup. “He’s here,” she announced.
Corrie released a breath and brushed away the remainder of her tears. “I’m okay.”
Shannon stood back and let the conversation drop while Corrie attempted to erase the stress with powder and blush.
“I’ll leave you girls.”
Corrie painted on the fake smile Shannon had seen the day she’d met her. “I’m fine. It’s just rain, right?”
Shannon left the room, anxious now to see who Corrie’s future husband was.
Three steps into the dining room, where the waitstaff had already pushed tables aside in an attempt to create a makeshift aisle, Shannon’s heart jumped.
Mrs. Harkin stood in animated conversation with Mr. Phone.
Slowly, as if feeling her disapproving gaze, he turned her way. The smile he wore while talking fell.
“You,” she whispered under her breath. Maybe he was just a guest here for the wedding and knew the mother of the bride.
Only those hopes faded when Corrie emerged from the bathroom, walked past Shannon, and straight up to Mr. Phone.
He turned his attention to Corrie and kissed the side of her cheek. Their conversation was too far away for Shannon to hear, but it became perfectly clear who the man was, and who his girlfriend was.
Not only was Mr. Phone not good enough for Corrie, the man was robbing the cradle.
Chapter Four
Shannon flagged down the bartender and sat at the bar. “I’ll have a margarita.”
“Make that two.”
She turned to the man who moved up beside her.
“It’s an open bar, might as well, right?” he said, smiling.
Was it an open bar? She didn’t know. “Right.”
“Now that the groom finally showed up, we can get this shit show moving so we can do it again tomorrow.”
Shannon couldn’t stop from laughing. “So that is him,” she said more to herself than the stranger standing beside her.
He gave her a sly look out of the corner of his eyes. “You must be a friend of Corrie’s.”
“I’m the photographer, actually.”
He sat down. “Then you’re not friends with either of them.”
“You could say that.”
When their drinks arrived, he lifted his glass and said, “Cheers.”
She took a healthy drink and tried not to cough. They poured their tequila with a heavy hand in Mexico. Something Shannon was sure Avery would enjoy, once she arrived.
“I’m Justin, by the way.”
She shook his hand. “Shannon.” His eyes crinkled as he looked at her.
Cute. Had to be in his midforties, with a tiny amount of gray showing up in his hair. He’d be someone she might try to get to know better if she wasn’t first, working, and second, looking for a baby daddy who could never learn her name.
She instantly removed him from her list of prospects.
He turned his attention toward the bride and groom as they walked around the room. “Since you don’t know either party well, what are your thoughts on the happy couple?” The sarcasm that laced his question had her answering honestly.
“To start with, he’s too old for her.”
Justin nodded and sipped his drink.
“And then there’s the fact he’s an asshole.”
Justin choked on his cocktail, spitting some of it on his shirt.
Shannon handed him her napkin while he recovered.
“Sorry.”
He was laughing. “I thought you said you didn’t know him.”
“I don’t.” Over the next five minutes, she explained how he’d sat next to her on the airplane and his behavior the entire time they were on the flight. “He never told me his name, so I had no idea he was the groom.”
By now she had Justin’s full attention.
“That sounds like Victor.”
“Is that his name?” He looked like a Victor.
“You really don’t know anyone here.”
“Only Corrie and her mother.”
He twisted in his seat and encouraged her to do the same. “Okay, then. Let me point out the party. Beverly Harkin you know, beside her is her husband, Dale. They like to act like they have money, but from what I can tell, they don’t. I’m guessing they want this marriage more than anyone to somehow elevate their world by their daughter getting married to Victor.” Justin paused. “Dale seems to like a stiff brandy, or three.”
“I take it Victor has money.”
Justin shrugged. “Yeah, you could say that.” He continued around the room. “Grandparents of Corrie, I don’t remember if they’re Dad’s family or Mom’s. I don’t know them. The giggling girls continually taking selfies are Corrie’s wedding party, Barbie, Bitsy, and Bimbo.”
Shannon’s mouth dropped open wide.
“Sorry,” he immediately said, looking anything but. “They all arrived last night like they’d just been to a frat party. It’s just their age, I suppose.”
Shannon let the insult slide. “Who are those people in the corner?”
The older man she’d pointed out seemed to know she was talking about him from across the room and looked their way. Justin lifted his glass to the man and smiled. “Parents of the groom. Scott and Renee Brooks.”